


For a Friend

by RisuAlto



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: But that's just because I didn't write the comfort, Cad is fine I swear, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, Protectiveness, Team Clerics, Traps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 16:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisuAlto/pseuds/RisuAlto
Summary: Jester’s arms were pulled up to her chest and her eyes were fixed at her feet, which Caduceus now saw were unevenly planted—her right boot had pressed something down into the ground by an inch or so, and it looked an awful lot like a trap.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	For a Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinyivyleaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyivyleaves/gifts).

> This prompt was, "Apologizing right before they pass out."

The party had been asked to investigate some strange noises in a cave, and so it seemed almost obvious that the whole ordeal would be turned from a serious mission into a spelunking trip. Fjord and Beau were whispering excitedly between themselves as Nott and Caleb swapped spell techniques and Yasha hovered awkwardly between them. Jester was humming in time with her steps, and Caduceus’s fingers were tangled in the rhythm, drumming absently against the wood of his staff. _Huh_, he thought as he watched them.

The tunnel suddenly grew louder as someone up ahead began to speak, inciting some ambient chatter, but Caduceus paid little mind. This was more interesting, especially as the beating wings and scuttling feetpads of his children joined the music, causing the staff to purr under his grip.

“Ooh, Caduceus, is that your army of beetles?” Jester exclaimed suddenly as she registered the noise. Her nose practically brushed his staff as she bent to investigate, but the sound ceased as soon as her melody did, and Caduceus watched her face fall with mild amusement.

He smiled and kept walking. “They liked it,” he said, running a hand affectionately over the staff. “Your song.”

“They’re musical bugs,” she agreed, clasping her hands at the small of her back. “Do you think you could teach them to dance?”

Caduceus inclined his head. Maybe—

_Click_.

He froze. Nothing felt different except the air, which was pulled taught like a sling.

“Jester!” Nott gasped, and Caduceus looked to his side.

“Didn’t you hear us?” hissed Caleb, brow furrowed in some kind of anger that reminded Caduceus sharply of his mother. 

Jester’s arms were pulled up to her chest and her eyes were fixed at her feet, which Caduceus now saw were unevenly planted—her right boot had pressed something down into the ground by an inch or so, and it looked an awful lot like a trap.

_Oh_, Caduceus realized. _That was what they were talking about_. _Of course._

Beau was asking Nott to disarm the thing, and Nott was saying she already tried, and Fjord was assuring Jester she needed to stay still, but it was all in the background as the details of the cave that had seemed so simple before were now jumping into Caduceus’s face. The ground had become smoother, flatter, and there was faint torchlight from somewhere very far ahead. They had turned out of natural tunnels a while back, he realized, which meant he should’ve been more alert.

Should have paid more attention. Listened closer. Chosen more carefully.

There was a hole in the ceiling above Jester’s head, he realized, and two more in the walls beside her. That was where the trap would come from, whatever it was. And there was enough space between Jester’s horns and the ceiling for him.

“Here,” he said, walking up so his body practically cocooned Jester. “I’ve got this.”

Beau crossed her arms and asked, “What’re you—” just about the same time that Caduceus lifted Jester up.

_Click_.

It was cold before anything else, but it only took a second for the pain to set in. Three crossbow bolts at once was a _lot_ for the cleric, almost as much as the rest of the Nein’s sudden shouts. There was one in his arm, one in his thigh, and one between his shoulder blades that, he guessed, would have gone clean into the back of Jester’s neck. And they all stung worse than sea spray in his eyes.

Jester wasn’t in his arms anymore. She was on one knee in front of him, and Yasha was suddenly there, too, with a hand braced against his shoulder. Or, at least, he could see her hand there, but he didn’t feel it. “That’s weird,” he said, staring at her fingers.

“Caduceus!” Jester’s voice was pitchy with shock as she spoke, purple eyes wide. “Why’d you _do_ that? We could’ve—”

Somehow, the knowledge that he was out of time had made its way into Caduceus’s head, so he cut her off. “Sorry,” he said, voice rumbling so low it might have gotten buried. His staff tumbled from his sleepy fingers, clattering to the ground as his eyes drooped shut. “I should’ve—sorry.”

He really hoped he wasn’t about to fall on Jester as everything blurred into darkness.


End file.
